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There’s a reason to life. I knew that the second I saw it. Weaved somewhere into those beautiful patches of multi-colored yarn was a message from a very wise and powerful being. A source of knowledge and beauty so strong that it can only be rivaled by the angry guy across the street with the Cheeto-shaped bald spot who hates cats.

The almighty Jonathan, knower of all things. Keeper of all sewing needles. Talker of all words.

The majestic seagull, the Jesus of the sea, visits you in a dream. “There’s a reason to life,” he pecks into your ear drum in Morse code. Your ears start to bleed glittery, golden blood. You are the chosen one.

In his beak, he carries a scroll. You unroll it slowly, knowing what it will say all along. “Jonathan,” some kind of magical ghost whispers to you. Your body is suddenly shrouded in white robes. By robes I mean the white, grease-stained shirt from your family picnic and white male briefs, formerly size medium before being stretched into a large last Tuesday when your cousin Eric had to borrow them.

Come, run away with me. To a place where we can roll around in the flowers and pleasure ourselves with carpet all day. Please don’t bring your annoying comic books. We will be busy studying the words that have been tattooed onto our souls with a hammer and chisel made of chocolate. Happiness.

We’ll break free from the shackles of the English language. Nothing has to make sense. If Jonathan tells us that we will feast on garlic eyeball soup with our bare feet for breakfast , then let it be so!

Long life the almighty Jonathan! There’s a reason to life.

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You have to pick your family up from the airport in half an hour. Nobody else can do it but you’re convinced that you have a really bad disease and this cool show about Bigfoot is about to start. A super awesome idea about making a double-decker peanut butter and jelly sandwich just popped into your head too. What do you do?

If you chose Bigfoot, you’re exactly like me. Well, at least how I used to be. Until I decided to become a better person. Ok, maybe I didn’t really decide that but, like, at least three people are really convinced that I did. Maybe you can do like I did and trick people into thinking that there’s a new and improved you. It’s at least worth a shot.

Here’s a few nice tips that I’ve used to brainwash people into thinking that I’m actually trustworthy and decent. They might be able to help you out, too.

GIVE PEOPLE STUFF

Nothing says “I care about you,” quite like a piece of chicken in her face. This Mother’s Day, give back to your mom for all that she’s given to you. Just make sure you don’t leave without sniffing her face for crumbs.

But don’t stop with the chicken for your mom! Actually, yeah. Stop there. It’s way too expensive to be going out and just picking shit up for your friends all the time.

DONATE AND SHIT

The next time a store asks you to donate a dollar to a great cause, do it. Just make sure your name is going up on the wall with the rest of the charity hall-of-famers. Sign your name as Showtime to be sure it sticks out. Then get wild in that bitch! Hang out by your sign and let everyone know who the fuck Showtime is! You just donated to a charity! You can do whatever the fuck you want!

COMMUNICATE

Let people know what’s up. Leave a note at your work station or at home if you’re going to be away. The more honest, the better. Don’t be afraid to be descriptive. Draw pictures, estimate the time you’ll be away. Whatever helps the people around you think that you would actually care about keeping in touch with them.

BE SUPPORTIVE

You should always try to be there for your friends. But like everything else in life, being supportive has its limits. In this instance, that limit is funerals. Your friends can’t expect the world from you and you need to lay down the law in this scenario. “I’m sorry, but I can’t make it to the funeral. My chest actually hurts. A lot,” you explain in an email you send to their work account over the weekend. Your friend gets all mad but it’s one of those sad-mads so you know everything will be fine in a couple weeks.

After all, people die from chest pain every day. If anything, you were just protecting them from another tragedy. What a great friend you are!

These four tips helped me get back on my grandma’s Christmas money list. I can only hope they’ll work half as well for you.